


A Giles and Buffy Short

by giles_forever8495



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9442346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giles_forever8495/pseuds/giles_forever8495
Summary: Just a glimpse at Buffy and Giles a couple of days after he finally tells her his feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story, like really short lol. Ironically, I got the inspiration for this story while I was watching Merlin. A particular scene with Uther reminded me of how much I love Anthony Head. Anyway, it's not really about anything. It can fit into any story line after Buffy turns 18. It's probably later on in the series, maybe even after the finale, since I made Giles look older. Let me know what you think!!

He sat in his study: cross-legged in an armchair, book in hand. The book was of no importance, no significance. He simply tried to distract himself from his thoughts. The thoughts of her that always seemed to plague his mind. So much younger she was, so beautiful and vital. She was the light in his darkness, the melody to his tune. Oh, how she captivated him. He reread the first line of the first chapter for the hundredth time and finally set the book down on the table with an aggravated thud. How could he have been so stupid to approach a young woman and proclaim his love? Surely the signs he saw in her were false. Oh, but the way she looked into his eyes and saw his soul, the way her hips danced as she walked into a room, the way her hair flowed golden in the setting sun. How foolish a man is he. Nearly twice her age, hair greying, skin wrinkling, shoulders drooping. He is an aging man, and she, a woman stepping into the beginning of life. He could not steal that from her. But, oh, how he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to spend the rest of his life at her side. He mustn’t think such things any longer. He stood from his armchair and left his study. Jacket in hand, he walked out the door and into the moonlight. Maybe a fresh breeze would clear his mind. Or maybe a drink, he thought as the neon sign flashed across his glasses.

Thirty minutes later and three whiskeys down, the man now sat head in hands at the bar. A stranger sat next to him, ordered a drink for the two of them, and brushed a lock of grey hair from his forehead. “You shouldn’t drink alone,” her voice rang out in his mind. Only when he looked up did he realize it wasn’t his mind speaking.

“What are you doing here?” He whispered, hope dripping from his lips.

“When a man tells you he loves you, it’s rude to just walk away. But what is the proper response when he flees?”

A smirk graced his lips, “I believed you would have asked me to leave anyway. Fear seems to be a powerful force.”

“Yes, I believe it took me two days to find you.”

He need not ask further questions. She knew where to find him, but fear, it seems, captivated more than one mind that night. He left cash for their drinks and led her from the bar and out into the night. As the moonlight shone on her face he couldn’t help, but smile. They walked in silence down the street: no destination in mind. Her hand found his and she laced their fingers together. Surely she could hear his heart beating out of his chest. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her.

In a moment of boldness, he stopped and wrapped her in his arms. He bent his head and found that her lips were already there, waiting for him. He savored the image: her cheeks rosy, eyelids droopy, and lips perked. The warmth of a summer sun spread through him as their lips made contact. Slow and passionate was their first.

“I love you, too,” she whispered in his ear.


End file.
